


Reckless Idiot

by SassySnowperson (DramaticEntrance)



Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Light Choking, M/M, Power Dynamics, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16759177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticEntrance/pseuds/SassySnowperson
Summary: Some days Tycho just needs to pin Wedge down and know that he's safe.





	Reckless Idiot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icandrawamoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/gifts).



> Written for the [Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/swrarepairs2018)! 
> 
> Many thanks to my betas, it would not look this well punctuated without you.

* * *

Tycho managed to set his X-Wing down cleanly, the energy vibrating through his frame not translating to his hands. He took deep breaths to steady himself as he undid his belt, popped open the canopy, and swung out of the ship. 

His feet hit the ladder and a fresh shudder ran through him, and he gave up on his restraint, he skidded down the ladder and dodged across the busy landing pad, heading for Wedge's X-Wing. He was moving fast enough that Wedge had just barely settled his own feet on the ground, looking up to give a sheepish smile to Tycho. 

"Hey!" Wedge said, overly-cheerful, eyes a little too wide. 

"Fucking reckless idiot," Tycho growled, hooking his fingers in Wedge's flight harness and hauling him away from his ship. 

"You tell 'im, Tych!" Wes yelled from his cockpit. 

Tycho shot Wes a glare and got a cheerful wave in return. Eyes narrowed, Tycho took a dozen quick steps, towing Wedge, until they were both around a corner formed from temporary crates, away from prying eyes and ears. 

"Tycho, I'm sorry, he was right on me, I had to—" 

"You had to," Tycho echoed flatly, pressing Wedge back against the crates. "You had to break formation, drawing the TIE fighter down with you." 

"Tycho, I—" 

"You _had to_ decide that canons weren't good enough for you, and engage that TIE with your _S-Foils_?" Tycho hissed. 

"There were strange atmospheric readings—" 

"And then when you had the two of you locked together, you decided that was the time to start rolling?" 

"I had the advantage! I could—" 

"Which you finished by _dragging that TIE fighter into the ocean_? A move that almost certainly should have _killed you?_ " 

Wedge looked at Tycho, giving a sheepish smile. "Yes?"

"You're lucky it worked," Tycho said before wrapping his hands around Wedge's wrists and trapping them against the crate. He had almost watched Wedge die, and he needed to pin Wedge in place and verify his safety. Tycho kissed Wedge, a furious sort of kiss, chastising him with teeth and tongue. 

"Tycho!" Wedge gasped into the kiss. "I'm fine, I swear. I knew what I was doing." 

"Oh _did_ you?" Tycho muttered. "Always know how things are going to go, huh hotshot?" 

"I've got pretty good instincts," Wedge said, slight smile on his face as he pressed back against Tycho, testing Tycho's hold on his wrists. "Promise. Now you should probably let me go before some member of High Command wanders back here." 

Tycho sighed, releasing his hold on Wedge's wrists and running his hands up Wedge's arms. Wedge leaned forward, saying softly, "I love you. I promise I'll make the scare up to you later." 

Tycho shook his head. "And here I thought you had good instincts." One of his hands found Wedge's throat, he tightened his fingers and pressed Wedge back against the crates. "I'm not done with you yet, love."

Wedge's eyes widened. "Tycho," he whispered.

Tycho could feel Wedge's throat moving under his hand, could hear the way Wedge's voice went thin with want, but also could hear the honest edge of worry in Wedge's voice. 

Tycho sighed to himself, he didn't want Wedge afraid. He wanted Wedge under control, if only for a few minutes, before Tycho let the galaxy have him again. He relaxed his grip at Wedge's throat and leaned in. 

"I love you," he said softly. "And I will stop if you want me to." 

Wedge glanced around their dark corner, his eyes a little frantic, before they rested back on Tycho. His gaze locked on Tycho, he slowly relaxed. After a moment, he gave a tiny nod, then leaned back against the crates, baring his throat to Tycho. 

Tycho shivered at the trust, and pressed his hand in again, not choking, but a gentle pressure, enough to remind Wedge who was in control right now. 

"Stay very quiet, darling." Tycho said and with his other hand he started working Wedge's collar open, fabric at the neck undone, the front slid down. 

Wedge gulped under his hand, adam's apple bobbing against Tycho's fingers. He bit his lip, eyes falling shut. 

Tycho worked Wedge's suit open down to the navel, around the straps and flack jacket. He didn't bother removing any of that, just opened until there was enough of a gap that he could easily work his hand inside. "Shhhh," Tycho said softly, when Wedge whined at the first brush of Tycho's fingers against the thin fabric of his undershirt. 

Tycho rocked closer, sliding his hand down until he found the edge of Wedge's shirt, teasing the pads of his fingers between that thin strip of skin between it and Wedge's undershorts. 

Wedge shuddered, his head dropping down, tucking against Tycho's hand around his throat. Tycho, never particularly good at denying Wedge affection, dragged his fingers up Wedge's throat, until he was cradling Wedge's chin. "I almost lost you today." 

Wedge made a soft noise of protest, and Tycho shifted his hand again drawing his index and middle fingers up and over Wedge's lips, a shushing gesture. Wedge gave a little curl of a smile, leaning forward to kiss Tycho's fingers. 

Tycho used his distraction to abruptly slide his other hand _down_ , under the waistband of Wedge's shorts, wrapping nimble fingers around Wedge's cock. Wedge was already thick and hot under Tycho's grip, and he grew harder still at the firm stroke of Tycho's hand. 

Wedge's mouth fell open, a too-loud groan on his lips. Tycho pressed his fingers inside Wedge's mouth, against his tongue, saying, "Shhh." 

Tycho shivered as Wedge's perfect red lips closed around his fingers, and Wedge's tongue started to work around and between them. Tycho felt himself grow harder, and he channelled that restless energy into the hand at Wedge's cock, stroking faster, relishing every shudder and hitch of Wedge's chest. 

He leaned in, his lips close to Wedge's ear. "Anyone could walk around this corner. Anyone could see what I'm doing to you, what you're willing to let me do to you." 

Wedge made a disapproving sound around Tycho's fingers, but his hips told a different story, jerking into Tycho's hand. 

Tycho worked his hand faster. "And I'm okay with it. Why would I be ashamed of this? Of how beautiful you are for me? Maybe I should have just taken you by the X-Wing, shoved you up against the landing strut and let everyone see exactly what my discipline looks like." 

Wedge moaned at that, only muffled by Tycho's firm press against his tongue. He started lapping at Tycho's fingers urgently, seemingly needing to channel some desperate energy. "'Ycho," he whined around the fingers, "'M g'na—"

"I know." Tycho didn't stop stroking. "Come for me." 

Wedge shuddered and tensed, his breath hitching, then his cock pulsed in Tycho's hand. Wedge collapsed as soon as he was finished, falling back against the crate, Tycho's fingers slipping free from his mouth. 

Tycho avoided most of the mess as he pulled his hand free of Wedge's flightsuit. He smirked at the sight of Wedge, listing dishevelled against the crates: lips red and shining, quickly fading pink along his throat, pupils blown, breath uneven. 

"Beautiful," Tycho said quietly, stepping close to zip Wedge up again. 

Wedge stirred. "I'm a mess." 

"That's the idea." Tycho worked his way up Wedge's suit, until he was sealing the collar shut again. "Briefing's in fifteen minutes, then we're running drills for the next three hours, I want you to be thinking about what I did to you." 

Wedge shifted, a red flush starting in his cheeks and creeping down his neck. "You're mean," he protested weakly. 

"You're mine," Tycho retorted. He gave a slight smile as he took Wedge's face between his hands. "I know that every time we fly, there's a chance that one of us doesn't make it home. I would really appreciate it if you spent a little bit more effort making that less likely, not more." Tycho leaned in and kissed him on the nose. "You need reminding." 

Wedge shifted, his nose wrinkling. "I'm certainly reminded." 

Tycho grinned, his hands dropping. "Good." On an impulse, Tycho stroked his palm against the crotch of Wedge's flightsuit, knowing he was smearing Wedge's come around his softening cock. "I'll be stripping you out of this later, darling, so no sneaking out to the 'fresher. I want to see the mess you've made of yourself." 

Wedge groaned, jerking his hips away. "Mean." 

"You like it," Tycho stepped back, brushing his hands together in a fussy little gesture, like he had just finished dusting or something equally mundane.

"I like you." Wedge ran his fingers through his hair, trying to straighten himself out. He walked, a little unsteadily, back toward the hanger. As he passed Tycho, he paused, looking at Tycho with those rich dark eyes that Tycho had always loved. "I will always do my best to make sure we both make it home." 

Tycho gave a half smile. "I know." 

"And I will figure out some way to make this up to you," Wedge said, a certain wicked promise to his voice. 

Tycho's smile turned more genuine. "Excellent." 

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually my first time attempting purely Legends fic, I do hope you enjoyed it! Wedge just needs seeing-to, sometimes. *grins*


End file.
